Are Not The Mountains, Waves, And Skies

One Of The Pleasures Of Reading Old Letters Is The Knowledge That They Need No Answer.

He Who Is Only Just Is Cruel; Who Upon The Earth Would Live Were All Judged Justly?

There Was A Sound Of Revelry By Night, And Belgium's Capital Had Gathered Then Her Beauty And Her Chivalry, And Bright The Lamps Shone O'er Fair Women And Brave Men. A Thousand Hearts Beat Happily; And When Music Arose With Its Voluptuous Swell, Soft Eyes Looked Love To Eyes Which Spake Again, And All Went Merry As A Marriage Bell. But Hush! Hark! A Deep Sound Strikes Like A Rising Knell!

Men Love In Haste, But They Detest At Leisure.

It Is Not For Minds Like Ours To Give Or To Receive Flatter; Yet The Praises Of Sincerity Have Ever Been Permitted To The Voice Of Friendship